


The Kiss

by savedatlast



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon possession, Kissing, M/M, Mild Angst, human!Cas, real!verse au, surprisingly not as fluffy as my norm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:06:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1225654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savedatlast/pseuds/savedatlast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A kiss occurred which should not have occurred, but from it arose some interesting developments. (aka: the one where Cas gets possessed and Dean likes the outcome more than he probably should)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure what corner of my brain this one came from, but it's here. So yeah. Enjoy :3
> 
> PS: might do an epilogue....? Stay tuned.

The tension in the hotel room could have been cut with a knife. Sam was still out tying up some loose ends for their most recent case, involving a demon who had possessed a young woman and was luring men into her death trap via seductive means.

It was just Dean and Castiel in the room; Dean lounging on the bed, pretending to read articles on Sam's laptop, and Cas sitting at the small table, pretending to watch TV. Dean was ruminating about the hunt, and certain events that had transpired.

Normally a routine gig: track the bitch down and knife her. They had caught up with her in a parking garage where she had just killed her most recent victim, and closed in on her. Standard. The tricky part came when she managed to smoke out just before Dean could get to her and she went directly for the only non-warded human in proximity: Cas.

As soon as he saw the black smoke hurl toward Castiel, Dean knew they were fucked. They should have had that anti-posession tattoo done weeks ago, but for whatever reason, it always got shoved aside for more important matters. Now Dean was kicking himself for being so lax with such a simple task.

Not-Cas grinned at Dean, "What now, Winchester? Not gonna touch me while I'm in this meatsuit are you?"

Dean glared back. "Get out of him. Now."

"Oh, but I like it in here," Not-Cas was still grinning darkly. It reminded Dean all-too-strongly of when the Leviathan were using his friend as an escape pod. "Poor human Castiel isn't quite strong enough to kick me out, and you're not going to stab your precious ex-angel just to kill me."

"Maybe not," Dean said wryly, catching Sam creep up behind the demon currently inhabiting Castiel, "but I can send your ass straight back to the pit."

The demon laughed, "Is that so?" Without so much as a glance behind, it swung a hand back with an invisible force that threw Sam ten feet backward into a wall. Dean reluctantly took a swing at his friend's head with a silent apology. Whatever good that did, Dean was still pushed backward onto a nearby sedan, knife clattering to the concrete sufficiently out of reach. Thankfully, the car was not alarmed, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. He could feel his entire lower back start to seize up and he cursed his luck.

“I’m gettin’ too old for this job,” he winced as he tried to sit up. Sam was still on the ground a good twenty feet away, and Not-Cas was honed in on Dean. As the demon wearing his best friend approached, Dean wondered if he would have to do something drastic, something that would likely hurt the host.

The demon stopped at the front of the car, where Dean was propped up on the severely dented hood.

"I don't think our little Cas likes me throwing you around," it taunted.

"Get. Out." Dean was growing more and more pissed off with every second that demon bitch was possessing Cas.

"Really? You sure you don't want to just stick that knife in your boyfriend's gut?"

Dean felt his blood boil. He just stared back, seething with anger.

The demon sighed, "This is boring. If you're not gonna play along..."

It leaned over Dean, bracing itself with a hand on either side of him. "I'll just have to settle for blondie over there." It nodded over at the girl still unconscious on the ground. "She and I have lots of fun,” it grinned devilishly, “But first..."

To Dean's utter surprise, the demon kissed him. More to the point, it was using Cas to kiss him. Castiel, ex-angel of the Lord and the subject of admittedly more than a few of Dean's late night fantasies, had his lips unwillingly pressed against Dean's, all because they'd been too damn busy to get him a freaking tattoo.

In the moments it took Dean to regain his senses, the demon was screaming out of Castiel and back into the girl.

"Couldn’t resist that pretty face," she said, winking at Dean. "Well this was fun. Really must dash, though." And then she was gone.

Cas was staring at the spot where the demon had been seconds ago, one hand rising up to absently brush across his lips. Dean pushed himself off the hood of the car and hurried over to where Sam was regaining consciousness.

He helped his brother back to his feet then turned to Cas.

"Cas, let's go."

The dazed ex-angel continued to stare at a fixed point in space, unhearing.

"Cas!" Dean raised his voice, which seemed to startle him out of his trance.

He still avoided looking at Dean, who was heading for the Impala. "Come on. We gotta go."

Castiel nodded and traipsed after them, and Dean tried to shake off the restless feeling that had overcome him.

\---

When they'd got back to the hotel, Sam had taken the impala and gone off on his own, leaving his shook-up brother and a dazed Castiel alone.

Presently, they had been sitting in relative, awkward silence for a good half hour. Dean couldn’t fight off an itch. The kiss was entirely all kinds of wrong, but it had raised a long suppressed yearning that would not go away. He didn’t dare raise the issue, and Cas didn’t seem to be too keen on bringing it up either, so he tried his best to ignore the feeling.

Like the freaky mind-reader he is, and almost as if he were commenting on the TV program he'd not been watching, Cas said, "We should talk about what happened."

Dean shifted uncomfortably on the bed. He was so not ready for that discussion. Nope. "Don't worry about it Cas."

Castiel turned the TV off. "Dean..."

Dean steadfastly ignored him, trying to appear deeply invested in what he wasn't reading.

"I was conscious of everything that demon was doing. I-"

Dean began to shut down, worried that he might be found out. He slammed the laptop closed. "I said don't worry about it," he reiterated, more harshly than intended.

Cas looked disappointed. Dean sighed deeply and eased himself off the bed, back still tense from being hurled into a car.

He wandered over to the bottle of whiskey on the counter and poured himself a few fingers, downing it in one swift motion.

He heard Castiel stand from somewhere behind him and push his chair in at the table.

He was awaiting Castiel to say something in reply but what he got wasn't expected at all.

"I'm sorry."

Dean half-twisted around to look at Cas, who was standing by the table, hands gripping the back of the chair, gazing out the window. When he turned his head to look at Dean, his eyes were sad, and betrayed something else that Dean couldn't name.

Dean turned back to the counter, and the whiskey. He felt exhausted, like there was a heavy weight on his shoulders.

"Cas, it's my fault. We should have had that tattoo done ages ago." That the demon had used Cas for its twisted games was bad enough, but Dean knew he was responsible for it happening. He wished he'd hated that kiss more than he actually had. Of course, the only way it would have ever happened was through demonic possession, but Dean had forgotten for a split second that it wasn't really Cas, and that split second had been great, despite the insatiable itch it dredged up.

It didn’t detract from the fact that Cas had been possessed, and demons were rarely so easy on their hosts. Now all Dean could think was: what if something had happened to him?

"Dean," Cas had come closer without him noticing, and now had a hand lightly resting on his shoulder.

Dean turned back around; hoping the pool of guilt he was currently drowning in wouldn't show on his face.

Cas looked reassuring but something else was flickering under the surface. "I'm fine, Dean. If that's what you're worried about." He seemed hesitant to continue, "I hope this isn't going to come between us. I don't care about the kiss."

Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He nodded. He could feel the whiskey kicking in and even that gesture was making his head swim a little. He turned his back to Cas, pouring another three fingers. "Well as long you're fine with it." He said derisively.

"I am." Castiel insisted, coming to stand beside him, gaze burning into the side of Dean’s face.

"Well so am I." Dean continued to stare into his glass, not noticing that Castiel was trying to get his attention. He knew he was acting like a child, but he didn’t care. Cas had made it perfectly clear how he felt about the... you know.

He was expecting Cas to sit down again or turn the TV back on. Cas didn’t move. Instead he clamped a strong hand on Dean’s shoulder, uttering the words "Dean Winchester, you stubborn ass," before whirling him round, planting a firm hand on either side of his face and crushing their lips together in the time it took Dean to blink once.

This didn’t feel like the demon kiss. This was one hundred percent Cas. Strong hands and nimble fingers played through his hair and gripped the back of his neck. The same soft, chapped lips that were pressed against his earlier today were maddeningly devouring his again, but this time no one was possessed. It was so much better in a multitude of ways, but ultimately because this was Cas, and it was exactly what Dean had wanted to do since they’d got back to the motel. Hell, it was something he’d wanted to do for a long damn time. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist, pulling him close and desperately deepening the kiss, relishing the feel of Cas flush against him. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, trying to get even closer as tongues delved deeper and explored, finding small, desperate moans and pleased hums at every turn.

When they finally came up for air, Dean couldn’t help but grin with apprehensive glee at Castiel, who met his smile with a similarly ecstatic expression and a determined glint in his bright blue eyes.

Dean laughed in disbelief, "Maybe we should talk about this."

Cas merely tugged Dean's face closer, and in his low, gravelly voice said, "Shut up and kiss me."

And really, how could Dean argue with that?


End file.
